Impossibly Possible
by Urban Red Fox
Summary: At the age of 24 Alice returns to Wonderland in a dream, only to find a different Hatter there. Holmes recognizes her in a restaurant, and soon becomes obsessed with finding her.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_After all those years, she was back to Wonderland, standing in front of a large, white gate. She saw a familiar long table in the middle of the garden, and the old memory made her smile a little. __'_The tea party_'. Both the Mad Hatter and the March Hare were there, drinking tea – they haven't changed a bit as far as she could tell. The Mad Hatter suddenly looked up and noticed her. For the first time, she took a look at his face (what had been shadowed by the hat), and she gasped in surprise. '_He's changed a lot since last time_,' she noted in herself._

_Why did he change, she didn't know, but now he looked more real. Messy, dark brown hair, big brown eyes, and all in all his face looked like he lacked sleeping. But, thanks to all these things, he really looked like he was mad. Her gazed shifted over to the March Hare, but unlike his friend, he didn't change. _

_With a smirk on his lips, the Hatter walked closer to her. "My dear Alice, it's so good to see you here again," he said, giving her a quick hug. She noted that he was taller and more muscular then he had been before, but didn't say anything. '_What happened to him?_' Alice asked herself, but she didn't have much time to think, because the Hatter led her to the table, while the March Hare gave her a cup of tea. He started a conversation, but it was soon interrupted by the Mad Hatter. "You are engaged?" he asked. He didn't seem to be surprised or hurt - he was only asking a simple question with a straight face. _

_Alice on the other hand was shocked. "How do you know?" The Hatter looked at her hand, and she did the same. A ring. There was an engagement ring on her finger. She was engaged, yes, but she hadn't got a ring yet. She met her fiancé once or twice in Oxford, he asked her father if he could marry her, he said yes, so now she was heading to London, so they could announce the wedding. "Oh, yes," she spoke up slowly, examining the ring. "I'm engaged. But I don't have a ring. Yet," she added quickly. _

_Looking up at the Hatter, she saw sadness in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared, and he was staring blankly at the cup of tea in front of him. She was twenty-four, she studied a lot since her first time in Wonderland, and now she knew it was nothing more but a dream. A strange, and incredibly realistic dream. _

_Now it was the same dream, but unlike before, the only person she could think about was the Hatter. This strange Hatter, whose appearance had changed a lot, and who seemed to be sad by the fact she was getting married. Was it some kind of a sign? Maybe this wedding was a bad idea. Maybe she should..._

"Alice. Alice, wake up. We're in London," her sister announced excitedly. Alice slowly opened her eyes, and glanced out of the window, letting out a quiet sigh. She simply couldn't share her sister's excitement.

* * *

**Author's note:** I was listening to 'Alice' from Avril Lavigne today and came up with this. Do you like the idea?


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Watson at some fancy restaurant, located quite close to 221b Baker Street. Holmes was overjoyed by this fact, and he was definitely looking forward this particular event...

Alright, that's a lie.

He, one of the greatest minds of his time, the brilliant detective just couldn't skip a simple little dinner. Was it frustrating him? Oh, yes, of course it was. His mind was racing as he picked up his violin, thinking about a good story he could use as an excuse. But sadly Watson would know he was lying in an instant, so he didn't have much choice but to go and get over with it as soon as possible. After slowly putting down the violin, he got up and walked over to the window. He should be going to the restaurant by now. Sure, he wasn't late yet, but he loved to arrive before them. Every single time they had had dinner together so far, he had been the first one to arrive.

He suddenly reached for his coat, put it on, did the same with his hat, then grabbed his cane and left the building. He thought about analyzing the food in the restaurant during the dinner. Everyone loved it, mostly for the high quality when it came to the meals. But Holmes knew (maybe Watson noticed it as well) that the quality was indeed quite poor, they could've got something better at the small restaurant close to 221b Baker Street.

Still, Mary loved it, so Watson (being a good husband) loved it as well. And that was the next mystery he wanted to solve: why men have to lose their normal, logical selves when they are close to the loved woman? This was the exact same thing that happened to him whenever he met Irene. Not like he loved her, though. She was different, yes, but it wasn't love. No, it was something else. What it was exactly, he didn't know.

Then there was that young woman in his recent dreams. Long, blond hair, light blue eyes, and she didn't look older than twenty-five he didn't know anyone like her. In this case, who was she? Why was he dreaming about her? "Holmes!" Watson's sharp whisper snapped him back to reality. Looking up at him, he noticed that the doctor was as neat as always: his clothes were perfectly clean, and there was not even a single wrinkle on them.

"Watson," he greeted him with a small bow. "Mrs. Watson," he added, and she didn't miss the slight sarcasm in his voice.

They quickly settled down, took a look at the menu, ordered red wine and something to eat, then Watson leaned back in his chair and observed his friend with a small, genuine smile. "You finally look like someone, who sleeps enough at night," he stated. His mind went back to the times when Holmes had been awake around two in the morning, playing his violin for no reason. Maybe he had been bored. Maybe he had been kept awake by his thoughts.

"Dear Watson, thank you for your concern," he started like he was writing a letter, and not talking to him in person. "Yes, I can assure you that I sleep more at night since you left for the honeymoon," the detective added, earning a surprised look from his friend.

"Oh, really?"

"Really," he nodded.

Watson found this quite interesting. "And why is that?" he asked, hoping he would get the answer he was eager to hear.

_Because I'm dreaming about an unknown blond woman_, he wanted to say. "I don't know."

Mary started to get bored, so she tried to start a conversation about nonchalant things like weather, theater, etc. Thanks to her, Holmes had also started to get bored quite soon, and found himself looking for a good reason (aka a lie) to leave. A new case? No, it wouldn't work. _Mrs. Hudson is ill, I have to go home,_ he thought, but it wasn't good either. First of all, Watson was a doctor. And on the other hand, Holmes wasn't the one to take care of people.

_Maybe I should fake my own death_, he thought for the shortest of seconds, but quickly got rid of the idea. Being dead wasn't funny. He looked down at the empty place on the table where his place should have been by that time. With a small frown he glanced at a waiter, who was quite busy talking to other costumers. Holmes only saw three men, an older, and two younger one. Moments later three women showed up as well, with almost the exact same differences in their ages.

It was her, he knew it. The youngest woman, the one with blond hair and blue eyes; she was the one he had seen so many times before in his dreams. The dreams he loved so much. The dreams that had always seemed to be real and where he'd felt nothing but peace. A perfect world with interesting cases and no Mary.

"That's her," he stated, earning questioning looks from both Watson and his wife. "I have to talk to her," he said like it explained everything. He quickly stood up and rushed after them, but unfortunately they'd already left by the time he got to the entrance.

_The waiter_, he thought and went back into the building.

Watson and Mary were waiting for him, trying to find out who he was talking about. He'd been talking about a woman that was obvious. But who? Irene? No, Watson was sure she would have left something behind. _Maybe he's secretly seeing someone_, Mary wondered, but the doctor shook his head in response. _What if he admires someone from afar?_ Oh, no, that wasn't possible either, they both knew that.

Holmes returned, quietly talking to himself about something, and he simply walked past his friends without looking at them. He still had to find out the name of this mysterious woman because the waiter hadn't known it.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A week had passed since he first saw her at the restaurant. Ever since then, Watson had been asking him about the mysterious blond woman, why he went after her and, of course, why he found a young woman like her so interesting. But he stayed quiet, only answered with a nonchalant wave of his hand without even paying attention to the doctor.

He eventually took a case, hoping it would avert his thoughts, giving him some time before trying to find her again. It wasn't too interesting and he solved it in three days which included the day he spent in his room, playing his beloved violin, not even bothering with leaving. And then it happened. One day, Sherlock was sitting in his armchair, bored, playing his violin with a blank expression on his face, when Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door.

"You have a guest," she announced before leading the said person in and disappearing on the hallway.

It took a few moments to Sherlock to even look up from the floor he had been staring at the whole time. It was her; the blond woman. She was standing a few steps away from him, wearing a light blue dress, looking at him with a worried expression on her face. But almost as soon as he looked up, her mouth opened a little and her face became pale as if she had seen a ghost.

"Mr. Holmes?" she asked quietly when she gathered her strength to break the silence, rubbing her hands together. He nodded in response, still finding it a bit hard to believe she was there right in front of him. "My name is Alice Kingsleigh." He quickly stood up to walk closer to her, inspecting her features to see if she really was the same woman from his dreams. The name was the same. "Mr. Holmes, is there a problem?"

It was here, there was no question about it. "Nothing at all, Miss Kingsleigh," he finally said, flashing a wide smile at her before turning around and marching over to the other end of the room. "Would you like some tea?"

Alice was surprised, but in the end, she simply shook her head. "No, thank you."

"Please, have a seat," he said, pointing at the nearest armchair. She took a careful look at it, before sitting down, keeping her eyes on her hands. Holmes soon returned with a glass of strange-looking liquid and sat down across from her. There had to be a reason why she had looked so surprised a couple of minutes ago, and now she was nervous. "So, what can I help you with?"

"I am here because of my fiancé, Hamish Ascot. He disappeared two days ago and we don't know what happened to him," she started, finally raising her gaze to look at him. "We were supposed to announce our engagement during a garden party tomorrow afternoon," she added quietly.

Holmes looked at her hands, searching for something. "Why aren't you wearing your engagement ring, Miss Kingsleigh?" he asked, remembering the conversation from his latest dream. He had only asked it for two reasons: firstly, because he noticed it, obviously, and secondly, because of the dream. That woman wore a ring but was just as surprised to find it there as he was.

She was hesitating; she cleared her throat while running her gaze around the dark room, looking everywhere but at him. "I don't have a ring yet," she admitted, "I was supposed to get it from Hamish tomorrow."

"Is there a possibility he might have changed his mind about the engagement?"

"No, I don't think so," Alice replied right away, "and this is why I am so worried about him. We all are," she added quickly. "Lord Ascot believes you can find him and this is why I am here. Would you help us?"

"I believe I can find Mr. Ascot, but I have to ask you to come back tomorrow afternoon," Holmes told her as he stood up and took a step or two towards the door. "Until then," he went on, his voice fading as a sign to make her leave.

Alice nodded and walked to the door. "Thank you, Mr. Holmes."

"Goodbye, Miss Kingsleigh," he said and shut the door behind her.

Too bad her fiancé had left her. He didn't have proof of that yet, but he knew the fact he left two days before wasn't a coincidence. That day a supposedly friendly game at a gentlemen's club ended up in a heated argument, the participants left and had a fight in a nearby alley. One of them died, and the police couldn't get a hold on the murderer. Hamish Ascot was a known member of the club and possibly left because he killed that man.

He should have asked her if they had met before. Or, maybe, simply tell her about the dreams; according to her first reaction maybe she had known something. It was insane, way too insane even for him. Believing in this kind of a connection between two people through their dreams was unimaginable. The more he was thinking about this, the more his brain gave up rational thinking.

* * *

_Tea, biscuits and cakes on the long table, and as he looked around, he also saw the March Hare. It was Wonderland again. He was back, only a couple of hours after Alice Kingsleigh's visit. Coincidence? Not likely. The rabbit was jumping from one chair to another, balancing three cups of tea on each other without even keeping an eye on it. It was still surreal but he poured himself a cup of tea nonetheless._

_There was nothing to do, so leaned back in the chair and put his legs on the edge of the table, patiently sipping his tea while waiting for Alice. She had to come to Wonderland, otherwise he wouldn't be here. Tick-tock, tick-tock; he almost heard this noise in his head, because slowly he was transforming into the Mad Hatter, being insane and actually enjoying the company of the March Hare._

_"You!" The angry voice snapped him back into that twisted reality. It was Alice, rushing over to him, ignoring the rabbit that offered her tea and some cake. "Why do you look like this?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips._

_Holmes took another sip of his tea with raised eyebrows as he looked up at her. "Because I do?" he asked._

_"Stop playing with me, Hatter! Why do you look exactly like Sherlock Holmes?"_

Now we're getting somewhere_, he thought. "Who's Sherlock Holmes?" he asked, playing dumb._

_"It's either me going insane, finally matching your level of insanity, I may add, or you playing a stupid game with me."_

_"Well, Miss Kingsleigh, I can assure you that you are not insane," he told her as he got up to look down at her. Alice instinctively took a step back and shook her head. "But as for what's going in here... I don't know."_

_She plopped down on one of the chairs, took a biscuit from the table and starting eating it. Holmes knew she was trying to cope with the news, but it was hard for him as well. They were trapped in this dreamland for a while once again, unaware of the reason why this was happening to them from all people since they hadn't met before._

_"I haven't been here since I was a kid," she started without looking at him. The detective sat back on his previous chair, listening to her every word. "And then I returned and there were you. Can I ask you something?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Last time you looked sad when you noticed my ring. Why?"_

_"I don't know," Holmes admitted. "I believe my memories and/or emotions are becoming one with the previous... what did you call him?"_

_"The Mad Hatter," she said quietly. "Do you think there's a reason for all this?"_

_Holmes only shrugged in response, glancing over at the rabbit that was running on top of the table, carefully avoiding the plates and cups. It was all so insane._


End file.
